Cry Salvation
by forgetablelove
Summary: Post HBP Draco is being hunted by Lord Voldemort, but he is always following others. Someone wounders, is there more to Draco Malfoy then just a surname? Dramione.
1. Didn't Kill Him

**Didn't Kill Him**

_I didn't kill him_, the man reasoned with himself as he watched two of his former classmates whispering a few feet away from him. But he stayed in his hiding place until they passed.

Draco Malfoy had honestly never felt more alone. Lord Voldemort and his followers - the Death Eaters, mostly - were after him for not going through with is assignment and killing Albus Dumbledore, but he knew he could not find refuge in those who were against Voldemort also. He could not find refuge, because they hated him also. For all he knew, they wanted him dead too. Snape had told him to run and hide, as he tried to talk some sense in to the Lord Voldemort, but he only barely got away. Snape was unscathed, even after his attempt to save Draco, but only because he was the one who had killed Dumbledore. Draco thought of those months he could have, and should have, just killed Dumbledore but didn't, and felt a pang of regret. He had failed at his assignment, as everyone knew he would. His own mother didn't believe in him, because she made an Unbreakable Vow with Snape to protect him, and as eventually happened, complete the task if Draco could not.

Draco couldn't find it in himself to kill. Well, he couldn't find it in himself to kill Dumbledore at least. He felt he might be able to redeem himself in Lord Voldemort's eyes if he killed Harry "the Chosen One" Potter, but he could never find Potter alone. He had be secretly following Potter for two weeks, but he was always surrounded by either the Mudblood, Weasley, or that girlfriend of his, Ginny. Sometimes he felt he should just expose himself to let himself be killed, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't face death without a fight and exposing himself would be giving up the fight. He was a Malfoy, damn it, and he would act like one until the end.

And the end must have been getting closer, for him at least. The Death Eaters couldn't be far behind him or would eventually find him and kill him. A chill ran through him as he thought of the ways the Death Eaters were taught to kill. He prayed it was quick, like the _Avada Kedavra_.

He watched in silence as the friends - all four of them - entered a building in which he could not see. He realized that the building must be the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix and have the Fidelius Charm placed upon it. He sighed and waited a little ways until he reached the bench he had been sleeping on. He was in Muggle London and could not afford to use magic... Magic might attract those he would rather stay away to him even if he made him warm for one night... He fingered his wand in his cloak pocket before laying on the grass under the bench and pulling his Invisibility cloak over himself.

Hermione Granger paced around the bedroom she shared with Ginny Weasley. _I have to do something!_ she thought furiously.

She forced herself to stop pacing and looked outside the window again. The dark was all that stared back at her, the soft noise of Muggle London and the empty street in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. _He has been out there! But where is he now?_ She scanned the nearby area again. _Nothing. No one. He must have Apparated, _she reasoned,_ but I didn't _hear_ him._ She groaned in frustration.

She had been seeing him in the shadows, following them whenever he could, but she never told anyone. She knew who he was the first time she saw him: Draco Malfoy. Even though Harry confirms Snape killed Dumbledore and Dumbledore said Draco could have killed him throughout the year, but did not. Harry even said he saw Draco was lowering his wand when the Death Eaters came in... No one really believed Draco's alliance actually might not be with the Death Eaters anyway. "Why did he run with Snape that night instead of facing the consequences?" They asked out loud whenever that night was brought up (which was not often), but no one could answer. No one truly knew what Draco Malfoy was thinking... or where he was. But Hermione had knew.

She hadn't said a bloody word to anyone and now she hadn't seemed Draco following them for days. She felt guilty and awkward wondering if he was alive or not. She had been trying to catch him in the act tonight, but every time she looked behind them, no one was there. She knew she had to tell the others... but she dreaded it. She didn't know what they would say if she asked them to help her find Draco Malfoy, who had watched Dumbledore die without doing anything. To his defense, he might have been killed on the spot if he had done something, but still... no one was in the mood to be understanding or merciful today. The only reason Hermione herself was looking to help him was because she knew he might be able to help them... with his knowledge of Lord Voldemort, Snape, and the Dark Arts.

She also couldn't forget the fact Harry said Dumbledore offered him salvation, a refuge, when he didn't kill him at first. Harry says, with reluctance, that Draco looked on the verge of accepting it when the Death Eaters came in. Maybe there is more to Draco Malfoy than his surname.

She grabbed her traveling cloak and headed out alone in search of this mystery man without telling anyone she was leaving.


	2. Found

**Found**

Hermione left Number 12 Grimmauld Place without letting anyone know she was going. She was in search of the mystery man who had been following her and her friends for weeks, but suddenly stopped. She knew the stalker was Draco Malfoy, but didn't know why he was following them. Theories of his reasons came but they were quickly tossed away in search of a better one. She found his conduct completely baffling and she was one of the smartest students in her class at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The night air was cold and breezy so she pulled her cloak around herself more tightly. Street lamps lit the Muggle street in a sickly yellow glow, lightening her path. Without realizing where she was headed she found herself heading toward the nearby park. The street was eerie, it was so empty and almost devoid of life, but her. When she reached the entrance to the park she stopped and looked inside.

The dark park was more eerie than the street if that was possible. The park had only a few street lights scattered throughout making half the park lit by the sickly yellow light, but the other half cast in shadows. As the trees' branches swayed in the breeze the shadow seemed to move creating the feeling of people moving inside. The breeze sent a strong blast and Hermione pulled her cloak closer around herself, but took a firm step forward into the park.

The silence seemed almost deafening to Hermione as she walked. She felt as if something unknown to her was pulling her to the center of the park. When she reached the very center there was only a small circle without trees, but with two benches and a picnic table all of which were empty. But no sign of Draco. Thinking quickly and quietly to herself she decided on a nice, simple spell.

"_Accio _invisibility cloak," she whispered into the silent night. She really wasn't certain it would really work; she wasn't even sure he was out here let alone using an invisibility cloak to conceal himself. But to her surprise, she saw the unique flickering silver light of an invisibility cloak flying towards her, landing in her outstretched hand.

Draco sifted as a rush of cold wind made him shiver. He attempted to pull his invisibility cloak tighter around herself, but only found that it wasn't there. He was fully awake and alert instantly, and his eyes flew open. He saw her almost as soon as he opened his eyes. She looked as thought she had come from a dream... a link to the wizardly world.

Hermione Granger stood less than ten feel away from him and was staring right at him, holding his invisibility cloak. She only looked mildly surprised at his presence, which was quite the opposite he felt about her presence.

Hermione watched him in silence as she forced an expression of mild surprise and as blank as she could make it. She was only mildly surprised that her simple spell had worked so well. Quite honestly she thought Draco was slipping since he was only using an invisibility cloak as a way to protect and hide himself.

Scrabbling to his feet, Draco asked forcefully, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Hermione said, her facial expression never changing.

Draco just stared at the woman with bushy brown hair and cool brown eyes. _Looking for me?_ he thought to himself, but said, "You saw me following you..."

Hermione nodded, 'Yeah."

"For how long?"

She shrugged. "About three weeks."

He cursed, but she didn't even blink. He now decided to stand in silence, observing her. She stared at him stright in the eye, never wavering, but staying silent. Finally, sighing, Draco relented, "Well, why are you looking for me?"

Hermione could do nothing but shrug. To be honest, she didn't know why she was looking for him. Or how she found him, at that. She was just being drawn, to look behind her, to the park, to him. "Because."

Draco sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get a direct answer, even if he kept asking, and decided to try again, "What do you want?"

Hermione bite her lip for a moment. "I don't really know. All I know is... that you're here and I should be asking for questions."

Suddenly, as if just realizing she should, she raised her wand and whispered to spells in quick consecution.

Draco didn't have time to even grip his wand harder when it went flying from his hand into hers. Next thing he knew, barely a minute later it seemed, ropes flew out of her raised wand and circled him, binding him tightly. He still met her eyes with only a small glance down.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I had to. You're still..." she trailed off for a second. Something about things didn't feel right, but she finished, "dangerous."

"Okay," Draco said honestly. He knew she had to. He wouldn't have expected less from her. She had to be careful; he was a known Death Eater. But now he was wandless and she wasn't, and he felt extremely vulnerable.


	3. Interrogation

**Interrogation**

Draco knew he had to find someway to gain the upper hand mentally. He knew he should play with her emotions, try to outsmart her, but somehow he just couldn't find the strength to say anything. He stared at her as Hermione stared at him in silence.

This time Hermione gave into the silence. "Where have you been?" she asked point blank.

"I thought you said you've been seeing me follow you for three weeks now?" he replied arrogantly.

"Before that, Malfoy, before that," she reiterated forcefully. "And," she added, "start with right after you ran. And leave nothing out."

Draco remained silent for a long moment and Hermione worried he would refused. She knew, realistically, he really didn't have a choice but to comply, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

Finally, to Hermione's relieve, he sighed. "I was on the run." When she opened her mouth to cut him off, he quickly went on. "I was running from Lord Votdemort for the most part." Her eyebrows shot up to show her shock and curiosity at his statement. "You see, Granger," he went on acidly. "I was told to kill Dumbledore myself --" he took note at the flash of pain at the deceased headmaster's name "-- but I failed. Whether you know it or not, Voldemort doesn't exactly accept failure very well. Snape, who hates Voldemort to my surprise, is being praised and sits at his right hand; I was forced to flee for my life. His other followers, the other Death Eaters, where ordered to kill me, but secretly, Snape helped me escape. I went to the only place I knew that was safe, London. But London isn't safe, is it, Granger? Nowhere is safe... But I saw, by chance, you and your little friends walking one day and I followed. I can't see where you retreat to every night, but I follow your group every time they leave."

Hermione let the explanation, which was short, but filled with so much information, sink in before replying. "Snape doesn't like Voldemort?" she said in a shocked whisper.

To her chagrin, he laughed. "He hates him. Dumbledore --" again he noted the flash of pain -- "was right about him all along, you know."

"But -- but Snape killed Dumbledore?" she whispered weakly, her brain unable to wrap around the idea.

"Yes, he did," Draco said dismissively. "But he didn't do it before he wanted to. He did because he was told to."

"But you said Voldemort told you to kill Dumbledore!" she said quickly, clinging to the hope that Draco was lying and contradicting himself.

"He did. But Dumbledore told Snape to kill himself."

"What!" Hermione explained, shaking her head vehemently. "He wouldn't! He couldn't!"

"Oh, he wouldn't, would he, Granger? The great Albus Dumbledore wouldn't tell Snape that he refused to break the Unbreakable Vow, which with his magical prowess he could easily have done, so that I, an innocent in the headmaster's eyes, wouldn't become a killer?"

Hermione stared at Draco, her mouth slightly open still shaking her head, but slower. "No," she whispered.

"You were all so quick to judge Snape. You were all so quick to say Dumbledore was wrong. Well, I have news for you: you were the ones that were wrong. Snape only murdered because Dumbledore wanted him to. He only murdered to protect me."

Even in her disbelief, Hermione saw the pain, the wonder in Draco's face as he said those words. She didn't have the mental capacity to try to figure out why it shocked Draco so much, but she made a mental note to try to figure it out later. "But why did he run then?" she whispered.

Again, Draco laughed. "Why did he run? How could he have stayed, Granger?" Draco's smug attitude was in place once again.

"He... he couldn't have," she realized. "We wouldn't have believed him. We would have... probably killed him."

Draco nodded. "So we did the only thing we could - we ran. And he's at the one place he hates, but he's safe. I, however, am not."

Suddenly Hermione looked him square in the eye again. "You aren't the murderer. You could ask for refuge with the Order."

Draco laugh again. The laughter was hollow as it always was, but this time riddled with disbelief. "Ask for refuge? They'd kill me."

"No they wouldn't," Hermione insisted. "As long as you pay for your crimes later, they will give refuge."

Draco shook his head. "Why do you have so much faith in this Order of yours?"

"Because Dumbledore offered you refuge... and you were lowering your wand."

He looked at her with an odd shock. _Potter told them the truth? _he wondered. After a moment of deliberation and coming to conclusion it was his only chance, he asked, "What if I say I want refuge?"

Hermione hadn't thought he would actually agree. She had no idea how he would be received, but she knew, by looking at his haggard appearance, she had to try to help him. "I'll plead your case."

Draco wouldn't believe his ears, but when he looked her in the eye, he knew he heard straight. And he knew he would find refuge. Slowly he nodded.

"I'll go talk to the Order. She turned to go back, but then stopped. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back. I promise."

Draco was left alone again in the park.


	4. The Talk

**The Talk**

Hermione slowed her walk the closer she got to 12 Grimmuald Place. Every reason that she could have had to go look for Draco Malfoy flew through her mind, but reach seemed as impossible and unlikely as the next. Hermione only knew one thing for sure, she couldn't tell them the truth. She didn't even know the truth herself.

Reaching her destination, she opened the door silently to make sure she didn't awaken the portrait on the wall of Mrs. Black. Thankfully, the portrait remained silent as she went into the house and stole up the stairs in search someone to talk to. She didn't know who she was looking for, but she knew it had to be someone she could trust. The door to Ginny Weasley and her own room was ajar. Getting closer to the door, she heard Ron, Ginny, and Harry's hushed voices.

"Ron, neither Harry or I know where she went!" Ginny was whispering, exasperated. "Now," she said almost dangerously, "get out and leave us alone!"

Hermione stifled a laugh. She could imagine what they had been doing that Ron had interrupted. Slowly, she pushed the door open. Harry and Ginny were sitting on Ginny's bed while Ron was standing in the middle of the room with his back to the door. Ginny and Harry both looked surprised when she came in, but quickly recovered.

"There she is," Ginny said firmly to Ron nodding in Hermione's direction. "Now, leave us alone," she repeated.

Ron turned around and grinned when he saw Hermione. "Hermione," he said with relief in his voice. He started to walk towards her, but she put her hand out to stop him.

Surprised, he stopped. "I need to talk to you guys," she stated quietly. "Well, I suppose I should tell everyone... Oh, Merlin's beard, what am I suppose to do?"

Her cryptic talk might not had made sense to her friends, but if their expressions were any indication, it had left them quite curious at what she was talking about. She swung around, heading for the door again. "Where is everyone?" she asked wildly. For some unknown reason to even her, she was becoming hysterical.

She felt someone's arms wrap around her, so leaned back on to his chest. "Hermione," Ron said softly, smoothly. "Tell us what happened..."

He left his voice trail off into a soft whisper. Hermione felt a bit calmer, which surprised her. Ron ever had that effect on her. Quite the contrary actually, he had the ability to infuriate her like no one else. She took a deep breath, turning to her friends. "Guys," she said slowly, guilty, "I need to talk to everyone. Not just you guys, everyone."

Harry jumped to his feet. "Sure, fine, okay," he rushed, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her to her feet. "Let's go get McGonagall and Lupin, at least."

Hermione supposed it was the fact she was acting so unlike herself that made her friends quickly agree and be so prompt. She couldn't help herself, she knew she was in for a lot of yelling. She knew she shouldn't be have went to talk to him alone. She knew it in her gut, but somewhere else inside her had known no one else would have listened to him.

A few minutes later most of the Order of the Phoenix was gathered in their dining room which also served the purpose of a meeting room. McGonagall, Lupin (which Tonks standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder), Bill (still bandaged from his wounds), Fleur, Mrs and Ms. Weasley, and the real Mad–Eye Moody sat around the table with their full attention on the four teenagers that had called the meeting.

Obviously tiring of the silence, Lupin said, "What is it, Harry?"

Harry quickly denied the responsibility of calling the meeting, "It wasn't me; it was Hermione."

Hermione folded her hands nervously in front of her, not looking up at the adults who now turned their attention directly on her. "I guess I should start from the very beginning," she said quickly. No one said a word, waiting for her to continue. Quickly, fumbling slightly for no real reason, she told the story of seeing Draco following them and then going in search of him. Quite predictably everyone chastised her for going on her own, even called her reckless. She took the verbal chastising without complaint. Once they had stopped yelling at her and their looks had gone slightly softer, she made her point. "And I said I'd come and talk to the Order of the Phoenix, to see if I could convince you all to give him refuge."

The outrage was immediate. No one, not even the rational McGonagall, would hear of Draco Malfoy being brought here.

Knowing it was low, almost below her, she said the words she'd hope she wouldn't have to, "Dumbledore offered him refuge. Dumbledore was willing." She took the silence that followed to look each of the members in their eyes as daring them to say something to contradict Dumbledore's memory.

Very reluctantly McGonagall said, "If Albus... was going to. And Harry confirms he was going to, then I see no reason why the boy shouldn't be brought here under our protection. But–," she stressed, looking into Hermione's eyes piercingly, "Only if Miss Granger is willing to watch him and take the blame for anything he does. Wrong." Slowly the rest nodded their agreement, looking at Hermione with unblinking eyes.

"Fine," Hermione said in a shaky voice.

"And," Lupin added, "he takes the Ververitaserum truth potion."

Hermione nodded, agreeing for Draco. "I'm sure he'll do so without complaint."

"Fine," Lupin said reluctantly. "Someone must go with you to fetch him."

"I will," Tonks volunteered. She sounded almost eager to go, to leave the headquarters for even a few minutes.

"As I," Fleur said softly.

Bill and Lupin looked like they would object until they looked at the women's faces. Ginny smiled, "I'll go with them."

Mr. Weasley said to say something, but was interupted by Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, Author, let her go. He is wandless. And they know how to reach us quickly if they are in danger."

With that, the four girls left in search, again, for Hermione's mystery man.


	5. Conditions

**Conditions**

Hermione walked with the other girls towards the park, but the walk felt longer than it had when she had left or when there the first time that night. Fleur, Tonks, and Ginny talked about random things during the walk, not noticing or at least mention that Hermione was silent. She felt like she leading her friends to danger. She didn't understand her feelings of guilt since they had volunteered and the wizard they were fetching was wandless, but she felt guilty nonetheless. She knew she should have refused their company and not risked them being in danger, but she hadn't realized how little she actually knew until she thought of what could be waiting for them in the park. A shiver went down her spine and she pulled her cloak tighter.

She sped up and left the others fall behind her a bit. The night was almost overwhelming now; it seemed dark and endless. There didn't seem to be a star in the sky, and she couldn't find the moon as hard as she looked. The only light was the eerie, sickly yellow from the street lamps lighting the way and it was barely bright enough to read the streets' names as she passed the signs.

She stopped so the others could catch up with her when she reached the entrance of the park. Pulling her cloak tighter still around herself, she waiting with her arms crossed over her stomach and her feet impatiently tapping the sidewalk. She wasn't sure why she was anxious unless it was pure fright and nervousness. Or maybe concern for her friends' well-beings. When she heard her friends' approach she shook her head to clean out the cobwebs. She needed to be thinking her best if she would be able to follow through with her word to Malfoy.

_Why do I care if I keep my word to Malfoy?_ she asked herself silently. She didn't even know the answer to her own question.

Sighing, as the others joined her, she looked into the dark entrance of the park. The girls stopped behind her with an air of nervousness surrounding them.

"So," Ginny whispered, "he's in there?"

Hermione nodded, without vocally answering her. The girls stood in awkward silence just staring at the entrance to the park with a feeling of impending doom and an air of nervousness. None of the girls said anything as they stared into the dark entrance and waited for something to happen, as if they really expected someone to jump out at them or something to happen. Hermione knew it was ridiculous for them to be so scared since it was just a park, and even if you thought of the wizard inside the park doing something, the wizard was wandless.

Hermione cleared her throat and pushed some of her bushy, brown hair out of her face. Sighing, she said, "Come on. Let's just go in." She tried to keep her voice calm and even, so she wouldn't arise anymore anxiousness in her friends.

Giving her friends a sideways glance she say Ginny nod as if affirming her agreement as the other two just stared into the park with a nervous expression.

Realizing that no one else was moving, Hermione started to walk into the park beckoning her friends to join her. As they walked through the park the only sound was the light noise of their shoes stepping on the pavement of the path to the center of the park.

"He's in the center," Hermione whispered, remembering he was also still bound.

The walk to the center of the park seemed to fly by, and before Hermione knew it she was staring down at Draco Malfoy bound in the ropes Hermione's own wand her conjured up.

Draco couldn't believe his eyes when the four girls emerged from the clearing of the path leading the center of the park. He was still bound in the ropes the Mudblood had bound him in and he realized for the thousandth time that he still didn't have his wand. He felt so vulnerable and for not the first time in that last few months, helpless.

In the silence that surrounded the girls and their discovery, Draco realized how different each of the girls were from each other. One girl, the youngest and only girl Wealsey, stood there with her arms crossed across her chest. Her robes were tattered and obviously hand-me-down. Her red hair was vibrant against pale skin. The girl that stood next to her was like an animated cartoon. She was small with bubble gum pink hair. Her face even looked like she spent most of her time smiling, but there was no smile on her face as she looked down at him with hatred and something that seemed to Draco to be fear. On the other side of Hermione was that French girl. She was the only who was a Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament with Potter, Krum, and Diggory, the one who died. She looked stunning next to the Mudblood and the cartoon girl. Her pale blond hair was swept behind her shoulders and her blue eyes looked down at him with contempt. The Champion had the prettiest features out of all four of the girls while the others were average.

Then there was that Mudblood. He normally would think she was so average she was ugly, but tonight she looked like an angel to him. She represented salvation and life to him. She was the only one standing between him and a life continued on the run or even death. Her bushy brown hair was flying haphazardly around her face by the wind that had suddenly picked up. Her brown eyes were scared and confused. But she was there and that he to mean something. She was staring down at him in uncomfortable silence as she pushed her wild hair out of her face every so often.

Hermione had a hard time believing that Draco Malfoy actually looked like he did. He was bound and wandless, but he really wasn't fighting. He wasn't even fighting the bounds or demanding his wand. He was acting weird, and she felt uneasy about it. No one was saying a word, nor was anyone moving.

Clearing her throat, again, she said, "Malfoy, get up."

Malfoy didn't say a word, but he stared at her with such patronizing contempt that it almost made her angry.

"How should I move, Granger? I happen to be tied up by ropes." Malfoy replied with sarcasm.

Hermione glared at him. "Fine," she muttered a spell that moved him, but still kept him bound. "Fair enough?"

Malfoy had rarely felt such anger. She was intentionally embarrassing him. He hated this woman even if she represented salvation and life to him at that moment. "Fine, fair enough," he muttered angrily.

She nodded. And started to directed him with her wand towards the path out of the park, but suddenly she stopped.

"What the hell?" he asked, angrily, glaring at her from his bound state.

"Watch yourself," Ginny spoke for the first time. Fleur and Tonks still stood silently tV the side as if trying to blend into the surroundings and pretend they really weren't there to fetch Draco. Fleur had her patent patronizing stare, but fright was mixed into it. Tonks was biting her lips in nervousness. Ginny looked scared, but she had forced calmness in her voice when she addressed Malfoy.

"I was just asking why the hell she stopped?" Draco explained with a sneer.

Hermione glared at him, but still said, "Because if you go back with us there are two conditions."

"Whatever they are, I agree. Can we go now?" Draco rushed.

"The first condition," Hermione started as if she didn't hear him, "is that you have to take the

Veritaserum truth potion when you get to our... safe house."

Draco nodded, figuring he'd have to anyway.

Hermione continued without acknowledging he even nodded, "And I have to babysit you." She had intentionally used the term she knew would make him mad the most. "Babysit" was such a juvilnile term she knew it would offend him and got the reaction she wanted.

In a moment's time, Draco felt calm, angry, furious, and then forced calm again. He knew she had saw all the emotions pass on his face since she smiled smugly at him.

"Agreed?" she pressed with a satisfied tone and what she knew had to be a smug smile.

"Fine," he muttered with great reluctance.

She raised her wand again and the bound Draco started to move again. Ginny slid in front of Hermione and Draco while Tonks and Fleur stayed behind the two.


	6. A New Life

**A New Life**

The walk back to 12 Grimmauld Place took even longer the second time; all five were silent, as if lost in their own thoughts. Hermione had to use her wand to direct Draco, but every so often she would forget her task and he'd end up stopping. She always smiled when she did that. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, but she knew she was far too deep to stop now.

"How far is this place?" Draco suddenly asked angrily.

Hermione knew that he knew the answer since he had been following them all summer, but answered calmly anyway. "A block more." Hearing the words of their close proximity actually helped her feel calmer and safer. He hadn't made the slightest bit of threatening movement, yet she was still felt the air of impending doom surrounding the group.

When 12 Grimmauld Place came into view for the girls, Draco saw nothing. The feelings changed around him, and he knew why, but he still saw nothing. He almost asked who the Secret Keeper was until he realized it would definitely be out of line, so he was silent instead. It almost killed him.

Hermione reached into her pocket and took out the note Lupin had sent with them to give to him. Lupin had been made the new Secret Keeper since he was still relatively young and had an active role in the Order, but not too much of a dangerous one since he was and had to be considered a werewolf, although he was undoubtedly harmless.

Suddenly, Ginny's hand sprung out and grabbed the note, stopping Hermione from offering it silently to Draco. "Do we really want to do this?" she whispered with a nervous glance at the others.

Hermione pulled her hand away gently, speaking without realizing she was, "yes."

Draco felt his breath catch in his throat when the young Weasley reached for the note. He had no other salvation. It was in that note, in the Mudblood's hand. He watched with bated breath as Hermione extended the note to him. With as much calmness and slowness as he dared he took the note, trying not to rip it from her hand.

The note was in simple writing that would only be defined as scrawl.

In a mere moment, 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place got smaller as 12 Grimmauld Place appeared before him. Seeing the house the Golden Trio must have been going into all summer left Draco speechless. He honestly didn't know what to make of this turn of events.

Without a word, Hermione jabbed her wand again, she noticed she was shaking slightly, and directed the bound and wandless Draco toward the door. Someone behind her, she wasn't sure who, opened the door for them so that she could guide him in.

The second the door opened and the girls and Draco emerged a loud yelling erupted from Mrs. Black's portrait. She screamed about Mudbloods, filth, and the purification of the bloodline or lack thereof. Draco was shocked and alarmed by the screaming at first then started to pay attention to what the portrait was actually saying and found he actually agreed. He didn't ask, but he was more than curious why a portrait in the Order of the Phoenix safe house was screaming such things that were far more in tune with Death Eater beliefs.

Hermione shot an annoyed look at the portrait but decided, as the others must have too, that there wasn't the time to shut it up. She directed Draco into the dining room where everyone else present for the first meeting waited. When she went through the door she felt all the eyes on her. They seemed like so many she felt a shiver go down her spine and her wand shook more. She allowed Draco to sit down in a chair without saying a word and stood by him. Ginny walked over and stood behind Harry, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. Bill stood up and allowed Fleur to take his chair and stood behind her as he had been the first meeting. Tonks walked over and sat in a vacant chair between Fleur and Lupin.

"So he's really here," Ron observed first. Hermione saw Ginny roll her eyes, but no one else responded to his words.

Draco felt like giving him a smart comeback, but knew it was in his best interests to keep silent.

"Where is the Veritaserum potion?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice. Draco suddenly felt nervous, but didn't know why.

Lupin stood up, without saying a word, and pulled a vial from a shelf. "Here." He laid the vial on the table in front of Draco.

Hermione had thought someone else would administer the potion to Draco, but suddenly felt foolish in thinking so. Obviously she was the one who would give him the potion. With an uncharacteristically hard stare and unkind motion, she dropped the potion into Draco's willing and already opened mouth. "Am I to question him?" she asked in a soft voice, praying the answer was no.

"No," Lupin answered her prayers. "Minerva will."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and asked, "What is your name?" directly to Draco.

Draco felt a powerful surge to tell only the truth. He wasn't sure if he was even able to lie. So he answered truthfully, "Draco Malfoy."

As if it wasn't an easy question to start with, everyone let out a collective sigh. The potion seemed to be working. She continued her questioning after the first question to the point.

Hermione felt her heart go out of Draco as she watched him answer the questions. The answers followed exactly the same story as he had told her in the park earlier that night, but hearing them again in total truth, made her feel differently. She suddenly felt compassion for the man and felt bad for binding him and leaving him uncertain and wandless in the park. His voice was laced with fear, grief, and honesty that was so freely displayed. He was normally so guarded; it was almost hard to see him so truthful and vulnerable. He had no control over what emotions were in his voice and she knew if he did, he would have tried to still sound as arrogant and smug as he did in the park to her. She even heard a heavy guilt and grief in his voice when he spoke of Dumbledore which was quite the opposite of the emotions he displayed at the name of Dumbledore in the park.

After two hours, everyone seemed satisfied that he was telling the truth. Hermione had to administer two more servings of the potion before they were finished though and she hoped there would be no ill effects. She hated herself for worrying about him, but allowed herself to do so anyway.

"We believe you." Professor Lupin said the words that cut through the truthful haze that still filled Draco's mind. He couldn't help it, relief and even happiness showed on his face. "Thank you," he managed to say. He looked around the room, the haze lifting slightly, and looked for the Mudblood. He had to see if she believed him. When he saw her, he made eye contact and what he saw lifted his spirits even more. Compassion and relief filled her face.

"So where is he sleeping?" Ron Weasley's voice said harshly. Hermione jumped, having forgotten he was in the room too, since he hadn't spoken for so long.

The adults exchanged uneasy looks. Hermione didn't know weather they were unsure and hadn't thought of that, or whether they had already decided but didn't think anyone would like it. Finally, Lupin spoke, "He is Hermione's responsibility. He's staying in the room next to her."

Ron looked disbelieving and almost angry at this. "My room?" he asked.

"Well, the room you share with Harry," Lupin qualified.

The haze had finally lifted and Draco was no longer under the potions power. "I have to share room with Weasley and Potter?" he asked with disgust.

"If you want to stay here," Bill interjected in a hard voice.

Knowing he had no choice, Draco said, "Fine," grudgingly.

"What if we don't want to share a room with him?" Ron asked, not giving in as easily.

"You'll deal," Mrs. Weasley said, giving him a look that told him not to argue.

Ron didn't argue, but crossed his arms around his chest and glared, reminding Hermione of a child. She knew she probably would feel the same way if she had to stay in a room with someone she hated, so she tried to not let it affect her.

"Can I unbind him?" She asked in a small voice before she could stop herself.

Lupin and McGonagall nodded. Raising her wand, she muttered the spell to unbind him.

With the binds gone, Draco felt a sense of freedom, but also, knowing he was to stay here, he felt a sense of new imprisonment. He knew his life depended on staying here, but he didn't have to like it. He felt trapped, hated, and weak.

"No wand, though," Bill said suddenly.

"I knew that," Hermione assured him, "but where will we keep his wand?"

"Keep it, but keep it safe and away from him," Lupin instructed.

Hermione kept the wand in her pocket, wondering how she could keep it safe.

"Take him to his room, please, boys. And Hermione you'll want to go too," Mrs. Weasley said in the first kind voice of the night. When everyone had risen and was almost through the door, she called out, "and Mr. Malfoy, welcome to 12 Grimmauld Place and your new life."

Draco felt a sense of impending doom and helplessness as he followed the Golden Trio to his new room.


	7. A Taste of Reality

**Chapter 7: A Taste of Reality**

Draco's first month of captivity with the Order of the Phoenix with his guard, Granger, seemed to slowly inch by. A day seemed like a week to him. No one showed him much courtesy; most showed him tolerance, though, but very little. Granger showed him patience, but only because she had to. They barely talked, but when they did it was mostly always to the point and never just for conversation. They only have one or two conversations that didn't centre around what he could or could not do, but at least in the few they had, she treated him like a human. And she showed she was human, and that she didn't hate him. She didn't blame him either, for Dumbledore's death or the new rules that lessened her freedom so that she could watch him. When he knew she was trying to strike up a conversation, a real conversation, out of boredom and convenience, he avoided her with curt answers and a rude demeanor. He utterly refused to get to know her, because he was already growing to like her too much, just for helping him.

Mrs. Weasley was the only one would really tried with him, unlike everyone else. He knew it was because she was a mother, but it still surprised him. She couldn't tell him when there was a mission, or include him in a meeting, but she did make sure he wasn't left as in the dark as everyone else seemed to want him to be. She told him about meetings, told him about the on-goings that weren't war related, and made sure he was present for meals and non-Order related meetings.

The Weasley twins, Fred and George, always made him feel hated when they showed up. They refused to be in the same room with him. Whenever he entered a room they were in, they left immediately even if it was rude to those that they were with; when they saw him in a room or in a hallway they waited until he left to enter. He learned to just pay close attention and leave the room first. The Weasley girl, Ginny, paid him no heed at all since she was always with St. Potter. The other two thirds of the Golden Trio (besides Granger) were never in the same room as him if they could help it. They even avoided their own room since he shared and spent as much time as he could away from the main part of the house in there.

He went days without speaking to anyone.

One morning, a little over a month after his arrival, Draco came downstairs to find the house unusually quiet and deserted. He roamed around the downstairs a few minutes before noticing that the door to the dining room was shut, signaling a meeting of the Order and Phoenix was currently in progress. He didn't even bother to tell anyone he was up, but grabbed a spell book off the table in the middle of the living room and collapsed in a chair. He kept glancing up at the door, waiting for it open. He knew it was strange for no one to wake him before now, but no one in the house moved.

It was a loud noise behind the door that woke Draco from his stupor. He couldn't really make it out, but he thought it was actually someone yelling.

Hermione was sitting in a chair in their makeshift meeting room in the dining room. The room wasn't silent since someone was yelling. She didn't know who was yelling since she wasn't paying attention anymore. The talk was just going around in circles.

She was in shock, too. Since Dumbledore died at the end of the school year, there had actually been no casualties in the Order. Sure, people were injured, but no one was killed. Until now.

She fought tears back at the thought. Glancing up, she saw Lupin sitting silently. His face was somber; his eyes dull with grief. He wasn't even saying what was on his mind. No one knew what he was thinking, and Hermione couldn't figure it out by just looking at him. He was perfectly guarded. She supposed it was only natural, but her heart still went out to him. Turning her head slightly, Hermione saw that Ginny had tears silently rolling down her face.

Suddenly, gaining Hermione's attention, Harry cleared his throat. "Shut up!" he screamed even though the arguing had stopped already. Everyone looked at him. He sighed, and said, "They wouldn't want us to be yelling at each other."

"Well, we need to go!" Fred yelled again. Everyone knew where he wanted them to go. He wanted them to go hunt down the killers.

"No," McGonagall insisted, "We need to mourn, to grieve, before we do something so rash." her throat was raspy from obvious tears.

"We have no time!" Fred said loudly, but not quite in a yell.

"No," McGonagall said firmly, leaving no room for farther discussion.

After a moment of silent, as if submitting to her decision, McGonagall went on, "We will discuss this further tomorrow. Please?" she added.

Everyone nodded; no one agreed out loud. Without a word, they all started to leave the room. Hermione stayed in her chair as she watched the other leave.

Draco jumped he saw the door open. He had been staring at the door, willing it to open. And it had. The Order of the Phoenix filed out. Not even Mrs. Weasley acknowledged Draco. He realized there were two people missing, so he stood up and walked towards the door. Only one girl sat in the room. Her knees were pressed to her chest and her shoulders were shaking, as if she were crying. But she made no sound.

Suddenly, Draco knew. Draco knew Tonks had died. He didn't know how, or when, but he knew if she wasn't here and everyone was acting as if they were mourning, she had died. Even Granger was mourning. That's why no one woke him, acknowledged him, they were trapped in their grief.

"Granger?" he whispered as he approached, hoping not to scare her.

When Hermione heard a voice whisper her name, she jumped. She turned around and saw Draco walking towards her. "Draco," she said, finding the words hard to form. "Tonks died."

Her words were so curt, so blunt, it almost hurt him to hear them. Tonks had made him laugh even if she never intended to, and she had always been in good spirits. She had been one of the bright lights at this place. "How?"

"Killed. By a Death Eater," Hermione said in a voice she hoped was calm.

"Oh," Draco said, feeling nervous and guilty.

Hermione found his reaction a bit cold. He certainly didn't look sorry about Tonks death or even as if he had sympathy for their grief. His face was unreadable; his words curt; his voice emotionless.

Granger's brown eyes were shiny with tears and hurt. Her whole body was just crying for someone to hold her, comfort her. She was even trying to comfort herself by getting her knees as close to herself as possible. Draco had a very strange urge to go over and hug her, to try to comfort her. No one, not even the Order of the Phoenix deserved this pain. But he did feel a pang of hurt that was confusing to him, that no one thought to tell him of Tonk's death before now. Not even Mrs. Weasley or Granger showed him that common courtesy.

But knowing death was still so close, at his doorstep really, was another cold taste of reality, but knowing he had wanted to comfort the Mudblood was worse.


	8. Fire of Contradictions

**Chapter 8: Fires of Contradictions**

Draco just stared at Granger for a moment. The cold reality was seeping in fast. Tonks was gone; she wasn't coming back from this mission, whatever this mission was. He, of course, hadn't been told of the mission; he hadn't even been told of the meeting.

"There will be no funeral," Granger added quietly. She was quiet, and not her usual opinionated self. He found he missed the fire in her eyes as she looked at him. The fires were fueled hatred and anger, he knew, but this unfeeling blank Granger, he hated more. At least when she was her normal opinionated self it gave him a reason to hate her. There was no reason behind this hatred; it was just hatred for hatred's sake. He knew he was the only one who could break her out of her daze since he was the only one who wasn't feeling the same way she was.

"Snap out of it, Granger, she's not coming back." His words were cold. The coldness was forced, since he too, was mourning. But not doing anything wouldn't change her death, it wouldn't bring Tonks back.

In a second Granger seemed to change again. "Snap out of it?" she snapped back with the fires of hatred returning to her eyes. "How the hell can you say something like that? My friend is dead! And so is your mother --" She seemed to cut her own words off. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.

Draco couldn't comprehend what she said at first. It seemed to go in one ear and out the other, but when it hit him a moment later it hit him like a punch in the stomach. "What the hell did you say about my mother?" he asked in a deadly voice.

"I – Malfoy –" she kept cutting herself off as if she scared to finish her sentence.

"Just tell me, Granger," he said in the same deadly voice.

"She's dead, Malfoy," Granger whispered unable to look away from his eyes. "Your mother was killed after..."

Getting sick of her not finishing her sentences, he pressed on, "After what?"

"After she tried to defy your father."

She didn't have to tell him, he had known. "My father killed her," Draco stated in a calm, cold voice.

Granger didn't have to answer, but she nodded anyway.

"I thought my father was in Azkaban," he asked calmly, not letting the topic drop.

"Well, he was," she hedged. When he continued to stare at her, she sighed and continued, "He escaped."

"Granger, that much is obvious," he said in a cold voice.

"Well, we don't how he escaped!" she exclaimed in frustration. "Our only guess is that Voldemort has control of the Dementors." She groaned. "I shouldn't have told you that."

Instead of answering, Draco just turned and left. When he reached the door he didn't bother to turn around when he called, "I'm sorry Tonks died. She was a good person," over his shoulder.

Hermione tossed and turned in bed that night. She just couldn't fall asleep, not even into a restless sleep. Ginny slept in the bed across the room, and her breathing had long ago evened into the deep pattern of sleep. Hermione lay on her side facing the wall, desperately trying to get comfortable. The vision of Malfoy's face kept creeping into her mind when she closed her eyes. He had been so cold and callous about Tonks' death, but somehow, after seeing his hurt and angry reaction to his mother's death, she knew he had been provoking her. But why? She couldn't understand why he had been provoking her, but he was. He even called out his condolences over his shoulder as he left. He was sorry Tonks died. Hermione didn't understand any of it.

Malfoy was full to contradictions. His voice could be cold on command, but he couldn't, or just didn't, shield his reaction to hearing his mother's death. His face had become pale, as if all the blood left his face, and his voice had been deadly. She knew she shouldn't have told him the way she did. She hadn't even had permission from the Order to tell him, but he had made her so angry. It was almost as if she just wanted him to hurt with the news, but that couldn't be it. Why would she want to hurt him? She didn't care about him except that he has a place to stay with the Order.

Hermione sighed and sat up. If she couldn't sleep she might as well go for a walk.

Draco paced around the living room. He tried for hours to sleep, but it just refused to come. All he could think about was his mother, the fact she was dead, and his father. He wanted revenge, but he knew that was something he'd probably never get. He may never get the chance to even see his father again. The two thirds of the Golden Trio that he had to share a room with seemed to go to sleep easily, and he couldn't understand how they could be so calm when their friend had just died, his mother had just died, and there was death all around them. Draco didn't think the cold reality of their lives being in mortal danger had ever hit the two truly.

Draco didn't understand how it could not have hit Potter though. He was Saint Potter after all, with his past and his future as said in the Prophecy. Draco wondered, briefly, if anyone in the Order was aware of his knowledge about the Prophecy, of the fact he knew it existed at all. He felt, suddenly, as if he should come clean with everything he knew and everything he didn't know. But he couldn't. He couldn't in case they then thought he was a liability more than he already was.

Draco had become lost in thought that when there was movement from the stairs he jumped. He swung around to see Granger standing in the door way looking at him. Her bushy hair was pulled into a ponytail while she wore her robes from the day, as if she hadn't changed or tried to sleep at all. She looked tired with weary eyes and a slight frown. She didn't say a word to him, or even really acknowledge he was there apart from staring at him.

"What are you doing up?" Draco asked by way of greeting.

She yawned and covered her mouth. When her hand dropped, she answered, "Can't sleep."

She looked down at the floor then drifted her gaze back to his face, "Look, I'm sorry."

He knew what she was sorry for, but he couldn't help but ask. "Sorry? For what?"

She sighed with frustration. "I'm sorry for the way I told you your mother died, but I'm even more sorry about the fact she died."

He nodded, signifying understanding and acceptance. "Thanks. I'm sorry Tonks died," he added.

She nodded sadly, and said, "I know."

He didn't dare ask her how she knew, but just sighed and looked away.

"I was going for a walk," Hermione piped up after a moment of silence. "Do you want to come with me?"

Without consciously deciding he was going to say yes, Draco nodded. "Sure, Granger."


	9. Different Silences

**Different Silences**

The streets looked just like they had the night a month ago that she had first retrieve Draco from the park. The sickly yellow light was casting the same glow as it had that night; there was no cars on the street or other people on the sidewalk. It was utterly still.

Draco and Hermione were silent as they walked. Hermione vaguely realized he shouldn't even be out of 12 Grimmauld Place without the Order's permission, but she didn't care. He wasn't doing any harm, and he was still unarmed. He deserved a night out. Even just a short walk out. He was in relative captivity, she knew, but he didn't complain. For someone who is used to having everything that his fingertips, including freedom, he was doing a good job of taking his new life in stride. He wasn't silent, but he didn't complain nearly as much as Hermione would have expected him to.

Even tonight he didn't complain or whine about this being the first time out in a month. He just continued to surprise her.

The night air was cool and breezy. Hermione felt refreshed the second she stepped out of the door, but the more she walked, the better she felt. The silence was a nice change from the constant talk and chatter that was 12 Grimmauld, but there was something a bit unsettling about the silence. The only way Hermione could even think to describe the silence that was surrounding her was with the word complete. It was a complete silence. The echoing footsteps didn't even interrupt the complete silence let alone the night sounds like the crickets. No, the footsteps and the sounds of the night made the silence all the more complete.

Going in and out of the sickly yellow light of the street lamps felt unsettling and uncomfortable. It was like jumping into different places each time. Light to dark, light to dark. It was almost eerie. Hermione didn't feel like talking. This seemed so surreal to be walking around the block in the middle of the night with Draco Malfoy. Nothing seemed normal.

Draco felt weird being out of 12 Girmmauld Place. It's as if he was finally being set free, but he was more than aware that he was going back to his captivity as soon as this little walk of his and Granger's was over.

Granger.

She had invited him to go for this walk, but she wasn't talking. She was acting as though he wasn't even walking beside her. He caught only glimpses from out of the corner of his eye of her. He didn't dare actually look at her. The yellow light from the street lamps over head came and went as they passed beneath them. It was hard to get a good look at her from his view.

Draco liked silence. Silence was welcomed during their walk, even though part of him wanted her to talk. He didn't really want this silence. Silence was what he receive most at 12 Grimmauld Place, and it would have been a nice change to actually talk to someone for a chance. But he didn't say anything either.

"Nice night," Granger commented from nowhere.

It took Draco a moment to even realized she had spoken, let alone what she had said. "I suppose so," he allowed. It was true, though; the night was quite nice. With its cool breeze, a silent street, it seemed almost to be a picturesque painting of a normal London street.

Granger was silent for a moment before saying, "Thanks for coming with me."

Draco shrugged, but then realized that Granger couldn't see him well, if she was even trying. "At least it gets me out of the house."

"Yeah, I'm sure it must be stifling be there day in and day out." She sounded almost sympathic.

"It wouldn't be my choice of a place, but it's not so bad. At least, for the most part, everyone leaves me alone." He wasn't really sure why he was acting as though it was no big deal to be there, but for some reason, he felt the need to reassure her.

"I don't living with those who I've considered enemies most, if not all, of my life would be my choice either."

Draco grinned into the darkness. There was her bluntless, boarding on tactless. Silence just didn't suit her anyway.

"Well, I don't think anyone would given a choice."

"Look, I'm really sorry about your mother." Her words were rushed, but sincere.

"We went over this. Even though I love to have one of the Golden Trio apologizing to me, forget it. It's done and over with. You didn't kill my mother; the blame lays strictly on my father."

The time the silence that followed was an uncomfortable one. It was almost long and drawn out. Draco wanted to say something, but he didn't really know what had caused the silence so suddenly.

"Your father is evil."

The whispered words were quite startling, but said so forcefully. He didn't know what to say at first.

"I know," he said honestly, and then added, "I know that more than you'll ever know."

The silence that followed this statement wasn't uncomfortable; they were just pensive.

"Your mother wasn't evil," she tried.

Draco felt as if Hermione was trying to make ammends for her tactless way of telling him the news, but he didn't like it. "My mother was no saint."

"No one is," she qualified.

"True," he whispered. The darkness was filled once again with the silence and tainted with the sounds of the night, and the light footsteps of the pair.

Draco stole a sideways glance at Hermione as they passed through the light of a street lamp. She looked torn. She was frowning intently, and she had expression of the utmost concentration on her face.

"Tonks was a great person," Draco found himself saying. He felt as if their converstion, if that what it was called, needed something light hearted added to it. The silences that seemed to occupy most of it was anything but light hearted.

"Well, yes. But she was no saint either."

"I thought we decided no one was a saint." He grinned smuggly into the darkness, having felt he had one up on her now.


	10. Saints, Martyrs, and Sinners

**Saints, Martyrs, and Sinners**

Hermione grinned. Draco could be such a prat.

"Well, that's because no one is. No one is perfect; no one is a saint."

"Not even the members of the Golden Trio," he added absent-mindedly.

That was the second time he had referred to the "the Golden Trio." She knew very well who he was referring to, but it still hurt a bit. Ron, Harry, and herself were not a 'golden trio', let alone 'The Golden Trio' as if it some title to be earned. She had no idea where he had came up with that little insult of a nickname for her and her friends, but she didn't appreciate it. And she definitely didn't appreciate hearing it directly from him.

"As far as I know, we've never claimed to be saints either." She heard the slight edge to her voice, but she didn't try to remove it. She increased her speed and walked away from him.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Malfoy asked mockingly from behind her.

"No, you just walk slow," she called over her shoulder. The edge to her voice was ever present.

She could just feel his smug smirk as he said, "Saints normally don't choose to be viewed as such."

She didn't understand his comment. "Malfoy, just shut up." It was an unexpected command, but she meant it all the more. "You're not making sense," she added as an afterthought.

"Potter is seen as 'Saint Potter' in many parts of the Wizarding world," he stated blatantly as if that explained everything.

"Only to close minded people like you," she retorted. What was he getting at?

"No not really. Most see him as some kind of martyr, hero, and savior. A saint if you'll allow."

"That's not the point. Harry didn't choose to be who he is. He had no choice in what his future will hold, or what his past has held for him. He's not a saint, and he never claimed to be one." Defending Harry to Malfoy seemed like such a useless task, she couldn't see any point of continuing.

Malfoy wasn't even trying to catch up to her. He was leisurely walking at his own pace behind her, as if trying to not be seen with her. But he was still carrying on his ridiculous conversation with her.

"You're not a saint either," she accused in a dark tone.

Draco smirked behind her back. "I never claimed to be a saint. Actually, if I claim to be anything, I claim to be a sinner. You know what they say, don't you?"

He paused and waited for her to respond.

She sighed. "No, what do they say?" she relented.

"The apple never falls far from the tree."

Granger swung around, her wand was now out.

"What the hell?" Draco asked, confused.

"Well--" she stammered. "Your father killed someone then you said... I just thought... I--"

"I don't even have a wand, Granger. I can't hurt you," Draco interjected angrily.

She put her wand back in her robes. "I'm sorry. I know that."

"You should know that," Draco spat at her, "You have my wand."

"I know," she stressed, hopelessly. He could see she was genuine sorry, or just good at acting it.

"Fine. All I meant was I wasn't a saint because neither of my parents were. It's simple. Don't read so much into it from now on," he added roughly.

Hermione felt terrible. Here Malfoy was without his wand, and she was taking simple words as threats. It hadn't even been a threat in the first place. She had no reason to feel threatened by his words; his tone hadn't even been the least bit threatening.

They had been having an actual conversation (sure, they weren't agreeing exactly, but they weren't downright fighting either.) and she went and offended him. She didn't really know what to say. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly.

"Well, you're parents aren't saints either," he said. It was clear he was purposing misunderstanding her apology.

She chose not to correct him. "No one is a saint," she repeated.

The more she repeated it, the more she believed it. The statement was very true indeed. No one was perfect and if someone claimed to be, they were lying to themselves as well as everyone else. She never felt as though she was saint. Actually, she always felt quite inadequate. She knew she was book smart, but she didn't have much when it came to being street savvy. She even misunderstood intent of simple words. But she never felt as though she was a downright sinner, until now that is. Suddenly, Malfoy made her feel so inadequate and wrong.

Malfoy had a way of making her feel things she didn't like.

"Repeat that again and I think I'll scream," Malfoy warned from behind her.

She grinned. So simply repeating the same thing over and over was a way to annoy him. Good to know, she thought.

"Saints and martyrs, is that what you really want to be around anyway?" Malfoy mused aloud.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, if we were all surrounded by saints and martyrs, we'd feel like sinners constantly. Like everything we did was wrong. We'd never be good enough for those around us." Something in his voice made Hermione think he knew how this felt firsthand.

Hermione thought on this for a moment. "You're right, of course," she agreed. "But then again, maybe being surrounded by saints and martyrs would make us strive to be more than we already are."

"It could. Or it could make us so depressed we don't even strive to really live anymore," he replied.

The silence that followed his awkward answer was an uncomfortable one. Hermione didn't know what to say. If he had ever felt that way, she found she was sad, but if he hadn't and was pulling things out of thin air, he had won the verbal battle. But she didn't know what he meant, and she didn't know which it was.

"Well, if we don't strive to live anymore, then there would be no point on thinking we are nothing but sinners. There would be no point to thinking someone else was better than us too. I mean, if someone doesn't want to live anymore, what's the point of caring about everyone else?"

"Good point," Malfoy agreed. Suddenly, he was right next to her. Close as he ever was. She could even feel the heat of his body. "I guess we're just damned if we do and damned if we don't," he added softly.


	11. Strange Dawn

**Strange Dawn**

The streetlight's sickly yellow glow started to be overpowered by the sunrise on the eastern horizon. Hermione smiled when she saw the sun creeping up over the buildings.

"It's dawn. We should go back now." Draco's voice surprised her. The silence that had fallen over the duo had been comfortable, so his voice was a bit unsettling.

"Of course," she agreed, sighing. She took once last long look down the street then turned on her heel. She didn't hear his footsteps through the noises that built up gradually as the city began to awake. "Aren't you coming?" she asked without looking back at him.

"Right." His footsteps slowly began to echo on the street in a soft rhythm. "Hopefully we can get back before the others wake up."

Hermione nodded, a nervous feeling overcoming her. _What if everyone was already awake? How will they react to her giving Draco permission to leave 12 Grimmauld Place?_ As they walked the sun climbed higher in the sky. "It must be five in the morning," she said, stating the obvious.

"Luckily the Order are not what would be called early risers," Draco said his barb without sounding as if it was an insult on purpose.

The small amount of cars that had been on the roads seemed to double with the dawn as did the number of people that was walking on the sidewalk with the pair. Hermione felt a small pang of suspiciousness as she walked. Draco walked behind her, giving off a casual air. She had no idea how he could be so casual when he wasn't even supposed to be out. Every now and then, Hermione would look behind her just to make sure he was there even though she continued to hear his footsteps following, never ceasing or wavering.

As they reached 12 Grimmauld Place, they saw nothing out of the ordinary. 12 Grimmauld Place was dark and silent, as if not a soul was awake within its walls.

"We're here," Hermione said with no enthusiasm as she stood outside on the sidewalk.

"It seems my walk is over," Draco stated as he walked in the door.

Hermione hurried after him. "Malfoy," she addressed him. He didn't say a word when he turned to look at her. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Granger, I'm not stupid." Shaking his head, he walked up the stairs.

Draco showered and dressed in a new set of robes before returning down stairs. By the time he was ready, everyone in the house had awaken. Hermione was sitting in the living room with Ron and Harry, reading, while they played wizard chess.

"I guess the world isn't ending today," Draco remarked, annoyed, as he dropped into a chair.

Hermione glanced over her book at him with a steel glaze, but didn't say a word. Harry ignored him completely and Ron said, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"The world doesn't need a savior today, huh, Potter? And the sidekicks must have the day off, too, it seems. I mean, if something substantial was happening, surely you two would not be playing wizard chess, like children. St. Potter and the Weasley. Not to forget, the know-it-all Granger." His words were deliberate, but no one took the bait. They all continued their tasks in silence.

"Draco, dear," Mrs. Weasley's voice drifted from the kitchen, "you missed breakfast, do you want what's left?"

"No thank you," he called politely. He had learned it was useless to be rude to those few who were civil to him here.

"Well, if you get hungry…"

"Thank you."

"Mum, let him starve," was Ron's rude interjection.

"Ronald!" his mother called warningly.

Draco wasn't sure, but he thought he could see Hermione smirking from behind the book.

Lupin walked in the room. He nodded acknowledgement to Draco, and Draco reciprocated. He then turned his back to Draco all together, showing he wasn't addressing him. "Minerva won't be back until dinner," he told the others.

Ron nodded. Harry didn't acknowledge his statement.

Hermione put down her book slowly and looked at Lupin. "We know. We were there at breakfast when she left. She's fine; there is no danger. It's not even a mission," she reminded him.

"I know, but it's the first time someone has left since…" his voice trailed off. It occurred to Draco that he meant it was the first time someone had left since Tonks died.

"I know. Don't worry." Hermione seemed to be purposely trying to be optimistic. Draco didn't believe she believed her own words for a moment.

There was nothing to do; no meetings to attend; no plans to make; no missions to discuss. The day ticked by slowly as fatigue overwhelmed Hermione. She hadn't bothered to try to sleep when she and Draco returned from their walk. Today, unlike most days, 12 Grimmauld Place was quiet. No visitors even came over.

Draco slipped insults and barbs into his conversations easily. His words were cold, and Hermione felt it was deliberate. He was even acting differently towards her. It wasn't nicer, not really; it was almost angrier.

"Hermione?"

Ron's voice cut through her fog of thoughts and she looked over her book. She hadn't turned a page in an hour.

"Dinner's ready," Ron said kindly. Harry was already heading toward the kitchen.

"Is Professor McGonagall back yet?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "Not yet. No one is worried at the moment though."

"It's only been—" she glanced at the clock. "—12 hours anyway."

He nodded. She stood up and walked towards him. He stood, unmoving. "What?" she asked with a small smile. "You're never late for dinner."

He smiled. "Are you okay? You've been acting… strange all day."

"Oh, I'm fine," she waved him off. She tried to walk by him, and he grabbed her arm lightly, stopping her.

He pulled her gently towards himself and grabbed his arms around her. "Are you sure?"

This uncharacteristic act of gentleness made Hermione smile, and she whispered, "I'm sure."

He let her go abruptly, and turned away without another word. She followed him into the kitchen. The aroma of the food was almost overwhelming. She had no idea she was hungry. She had skipped lunch, and it was catching up with her.

There were four empty seats at the table. One was at one head of the table, which would normally be for Professor McGonagall; two were next to the empty head chair on one side; the other was by Draco. He was sitting at one end of the table, next to the head, and no one had chosen to sit next to him. Ron dropped in the seat next to Harry. Hermione walked discreetly over and sat in the empty chair next to Draco.

She piled her plate with food without saying a word as she ignored the looks she was receiving for her choice of seating. "Will you pass me the potatoes, Malfoy?" she asked casually.


End file.
